Babe of Destruction
After reading this Dooce entry about dining out with a child who is nearly the exact age as my goddaughter, I remembered our own incident last week. We had gone to Don Pablo's to make Jack happy celebrate my birthday. I was holding Rachel when she stealthfully reached out and whipped a faux Fiestaware plate off the table. There was a spectacular crashlanding on the cement floor which resulted in much, much shattering. It was awesome.

Go Make Yourself a Dang Quesa-dilla!
I just have to say that the Quesadilla Explosion salad at Chili's makes my mouth happy. I especially love ordering it... because I get to say "Quesadilla Explosion". (You have to say "explosion" in almost a half-whisper. It really makes the waitor look at you funny.) At least they didn't call it the Quesadilla Extreme salad or I wouldn't have been able to order it out of principle.

For Future Perusal
Lone Prairie Art: cute stuff. great ideas.